


The Coming of Spring

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Contains major spoilers for Come and Get Lost With Us, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mention of Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 23:40:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Suga would wake in a sweat, arms rigid, hands clenched. But he knew he must have been thrashing around because Daichi’s arm was furled around his waist to steady him, whilst he propped himself up on the other.</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” he'd whisper. “I’m here.”</p>
<p>He’d close his eyes, but never drift back to sleep until he could hear Daichi’s even breaths and knew he was sleeping. And even then, he’d stare into the dark and wish he didn’t feel ...</p>
<p>Useless.</p>
<p>So utterly lost and useless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Coming of Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boxofwonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Come and get lost with us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1560626) by [boxofwonder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/boxofwonder). 



> This is for the wonderful Nico (aka boxofwonder and citrusfleugal) because the fabulousness that is Come and Get Lost with Us has recently finished.
> 
> It contains MAJOR MAJOR spoilers for that story, so do not come anywhere near this unless you've read it. Also, any mistakes in timeline or characterisation are all down to me. This is NOT canon for 'Lost With Us' it's all fanon and gushy fanon at that.
> 
> Nico, I hope this is okay.

Spring was the season Daichi had always loved the best. He loved the fresh hope it brought, and that sense they could start anew.  As he perused the camp, taking in the sudden lilts of laughter or rowdy yells that punctuated the bustling, he breathed a sigh that all was well.

Everything was calm – or as calm as it was ever likely to be with a camp still running on the adrenaline of survival. Patients had been patched up, friendships had formed and family bonds had been renewed. There were teams working on rebuilding, strengthening the camp, and a steady stream of hunters brought back their prizes.

There was only one cloud in his mind, a cloud which he wasn’t sure how to tackle.

“Got somethin’ on your mind?”

He turned, not at all surprised to see Saeko watching him from the door of her hut.

“No-” he started to say. But Saeko’s smile had switched to a pursing of lips and he knew it was pointless trying to fool her. It was merely a matter of whether he should confide, or work through it himself.

“I’m guessin’ it has something to do with Suga, right?” she queried and stepped towards him.

He grimaced. “That obvious, huh?”

“You have a special look when you’re thinkin’ ‘bout him and you don’t know you’re bein’ observed. Sorta loving and warm – so sappy it’s like it ain’t you thinkin’ at all and you need a punch to snap out of it,” she mused. And now she was right in front of him, arms folded across her chest as she confronted him. “But this time there’s a  ... a ... worry, I guess, and no eye-patch or scowl can hide that, Sawamura.  Somethin’s naggin’ at you, ain’t it.”

He nodded and swallowed, but although he knew he needed to talk, the words wouldn’t come because it felt like a betrayal.

“I’m not sayin’ you have to talk to me,” she muttered. “But a distracted leader ain’t good for the camp even if things are kinda peaceful.”

He winced at the accusation. “I’m not distracted. Not from the things that need attending to, Saeko,” he snapped.

“Mmm, we can all see that,” she retorted, not the least put out by his threatening gaze. “It’s more a matter of atmosphere. Somethin’s troubling you, Sawamura, and that gets the camp worried.” She paused, uncrossed her arms, and touched his chest with the palm of her hand. “Suga smiles a lot – when he emerges from the apothecary hut, that is.”

“And that’s a bad thing how?” he asked, frowning but not at her, more that she’d noticed and was about to put into words what he hadn’t been able to.

“He’s smilin’ _too_ much,” she replied. “And your heart started leapin’ when I said that.”

***

Suga spent his days counting blessings. Ticking them off his fingers, reciting a mantra aloud or in his head.

It was quieter now. He had time to restock. The camp was safe.

It was _much_ quieter now. He had _more_ time to restock. The camp was safe.

It was _so_ much quieter now. He had a lot more time to restock. The camp was safe. The safest it had ever been.

Everyone was happy. No one had been irreparably harmed.

Yes, he had the odd scrape to patch up, and Kuroo still came to him when Yaku was busy, but on the whole, even without Kageyama to assist, Suga had very little healing to do.

  
He should have been grateful for that, and he was, he truly was, because the alternative was too awful to contemplate, but - and he hated that he did contemplate it - at least he would have been busy.

He had time on his hands. Time he should have spent helping the others, he instead roamed the forest for herbs, concocted new ointments, kept the storeroom well stocked and scrubbed their makeshift hospital beyond clean.  It was to keep his mind occupied, he told himself. But it only worked fleetingly and never at night. For no matter how exhausted he was, the visions always found him.

The nightmares had started a month after.

A month after the battle. A month after, when everything had settled down, when injuries had healed and everyday life had started again.

He’d wake in a sweat, arms rigid, hands clenched. But he knew he must have been thrashing around because Daichi’s arm was furled around his waist to steady him, whilst he propped himself up on the other.

“It’s okay,” he’d whisper. “I’m here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just a bad dream,” he mumbled, then tried a smile. “I’m fine, Daichi.”

He’d close his eyes, but never drift back to sleep until he could hear Daichi’s even breaths and knew he was sleeping. And even then, he’d stare into the dark and wish he didn’t feel ...

_So utterly lost and useless._

Not every night – not at first.  Sometimes he could curl up alongside Daichi, breathe in the musk of his skin, revel in the fact that they were alive, and whisper how much he loved him.

Love wasn’t a word that fell easily from Daichi’s lips, but Suga knew it was there. He knew that Daichi’s every gesture, every caress, every softened glance spoke of love, not just towards him, but to everyone in camp. And Suga loved, more than anything, that he was the one who first saw this love emerging from Daichi’s eyes. That he’d be bestowed with the first smile of the day when both were fully conscious.

He loved and was loved.

But it never lessened the guilt.

***

 

Tweaking a small gap in the curtain, Daichi watched from the outside as Suga stripped twigs of their leaves, setting some aside to dry, steeping others in oils, and binding the twigs with twine to boil up later.

Unobserved, Suga was solemn, and Saeko’s words fled back to him. ‘He’s smiling too much.’ And while Daichi didn’t expect Suga to parade his beam of a smile all the time, something else struck him.

_It’s too quiet._

Suga would sing to himself when he worked. If he thought he was alone, he’d break into the old songs, the ones he’d heard in childhood. Madrigals, ballads, songs handed down from generations, the melodies stuck fast in his head. If Daichi walked in on him singing, he’d laugh – a touch embarrassed – and start a flustered conversation. So Daichi had taken to hesitating before he entered a room because hearing Suga’s voice, hearing the perfect harmony of more innocent times twisted Daichi’s heart.

But he wasn’t singing now.

“Ow.”

Daichi started and a split-second later flung the curtain to the side. “What’s up?”

“Uh...” Shaking his head, Suga held up his hand. “A thorn, I think,” he said, and immediately smiled. “I should be used to these by now.”

But the smile didn’t reach his eyes, no matter how wide he beamed. Stepping inside, Daichi reached across and took Suga’s hand in his. “You should wear gloves. Your hands are a mass of scratches”

“Hmm, I save them for when I need them,” Suga replied, and tried to tug away.

But Daichi held a little tighter, and drew him close. “Sit down, and let me get it out. It’s gone deep.”

“I’m a Healer, Dai, I can do this myself,” he chided. “And haven’t you got things to do?”

He shrugged, hoping he looked casual. “Not so you’d notice. Everyone seems remarkably settled. Makes me feel ... _redundant_ ,” he muttered, and stared intently at Suga’s face.

Suga gazed back. “Not you,” he murmured.

With no more words, Daichi led Suga to the window, letting the light spill in on them as he examined his thumb. “Okay, I can see it,” he murmured, and started to tease it out, pressing down with his nail. “There you go!”

“You’d make a good Healer,” Suga said, pecking him on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” He frowned a little, not angry, just puzzled. “What did you mean about only using gloves when you need them?”

“Some plants,” Suga replied as he sucked on his thumb, “might be poisonous, or maybe they make you itch. That’s when I’ll wear gloves. But gathering these is nothing. I’m used to it now and tearing gloves causes an unnecessary expense, even if I patch them.”

Daichi didn’t smile but stared at Suga’s hands. They’d once been so smooth, so pale, so small, so unlike his own calloused paws. And he remembered the first time they’d held hands as boys, how he’d marvelled at their softness.

Not now, though. Now his hands were as calloused as Daichi’s, but the cuts were more discernible with his fair skin.

“Are you busy?” he asked.

“Somewhat,” Suga replied. “Why?”

“Ah, I thought we could ... um ... spend some time together. Just the two of us.”

“I have something brewing,” Suga replied, the answer just a little too quick off his tongue. “Tonight, though.”

Daichi stared at him and refused to blink. “You’re too tired at the end of the day. You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow, Suga. And I won’t wake you. Not when you need all the sleep you can get.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Your nightmares. They’re getting worse.”

Suga flinched, his mouth momentarily agape, and then he snapped it shut. “The odd bad dream. I bet everyone in the camp has them.”

“Not every night, Suga, or we’d have heard.”

“It’s not every night,” he insisted.

“Only because some nights you wait until I’m asleep and then get up.” He reached across to him, taking both hands in his and raising them to his mouth. “Please, Suga, spend some time with me.”

He laughed; the sound was a sting to Daichi’s ears. “I’m busy, Daichi, I have so much to do.”

“Please,” he repeated, squeezing his hand. “One afternoon. Yaku can handle anything urgent.”

He shook his head, his throat tautening. “N-no, I can’t ask ... it’s too much ... he’s-”

“He’s already agreed,” Daichi interrupted, and heaved out a breath. “Just ...take a walk with me, Suga.”

***

 

He knew where Daichi would take him. He knew because their thoughts kept pace, and if the situations had been reversed it would be the course Suga took, too. But even though it was the one place he never wanted to visit again, Suga kept his hand in Daichi’s and didn’t protest when he led him out of the camp and through the narrow overgrown path in the forest. They spoke a little, mild inconsequential words about Karasuno, and the preparations for summer if the stream dried again.

“Asahi was not happy that so many of his pans were used to collect water,” Daichi said, laughing. “He almost shouted, remember that?”

“I think he was more annoyed at the state they were returned in,” Suga replied. “Tanaka and Noya deciding to use them as helmets while they battered each other with wooden swords was not the best idea they’ve ever had.”

“It’s shame the pots took the brunt of it. Keeping the cook happy needs to be a priority,” Daichi joked, and rubbed his stomach. “Dumbass kids.”

Suga smiled a little, glancing sideways.  “Letting off steam,” he said gently. “We all have to and they were tense, weren’t they? Waiting for the battle we knew would come.”

He could feel his voice quavering, and swallowed down the fear beginning to prickle in his throat. And then they entered the small gully leading to the cove. “Devil’s Throat,” Suga murmured.

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised,” Daichi replied, his fingers twisting into Suga’s. “I won’t believe you.”

“Not surprised, no.”

“But not happy to be here.”

Suga swallowed. He raised his head, staring up at the sky, watching the clouds and the sun filtering through them.  From the ground, with the sand and tufts of seagrass at his feet, it didn’t seem so high, but he knew the view from the top had its own horror story.

_Happy?  Oh, Daichi, if only you knew._

“We can stay on the beach,” Daichi said after a while. “Stare at the sea. Or walk, if you’d rather.”

“What do you want from me, Daichi?”

Daichi hand touched his back, his thumb massaging at a spot in the middle of his shoulder blades. “Only what you want to give, Suga. You know that.”

“Why here? Are you expecting some kind of revelation?”

“I thought ....” His thumb increased its pressure for a moment, making Suga wince, and then Daichi dropped his hand, instead placing both arms around Suga’s waist, and nestling his chin Suga’s shoulder. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

“About what?”

“You’re unhappy. You don’t sleep. You’re avoiding me.” He shrugged. “I’m not as bothered about that as I thought I might be because you’re avoiding everyone.”

Exhaling, letting his eyes drift across the horizon, Suga fought for something to say. The usual pat answer wouldn’t work with Daichi. There was only a finite number of ways to tell him he was fine and sound convincing. Because he wasn’t fine. He was going to break. But still he couldn’t speak.

“I miss Hinata,” he said at last. “And Kageyama. Never thought anyone else could occupy my thoughts as much as that pair.”

“You regret telling Hinata he should leave?” Daichi questioned.

“I think Yacchan was the one who told him,” Suga replied, a small soft type of smile on his lips, because maybe this would be easier than he thought. “He had to see the world, so no, I don’t regret that, but it doesn’t stop me worrying.”

“And that’s what you dream about?”

“Yes.” He kept his breath steady. “Let’s walk. We could collect mussels while we’re here.”

“Sure.”

They linked hands and meandered across the sand, and as the sun broke through the clouds once more, and the sea breeze ruffled his hair, Suga inhaled and began to relax. With no one else here, no threat of violence, and if he closed his eyes, he could quite pretend this was another time, an earlier time, a time when they watched the sunset, kissed and entwined their souls.

The seagull’s raucous caw alerted him. His eyes flew open just as something hit him and he could feel the colour draining from his face, feel his shoulders tense and hear his heart pound. “No!”

“What?” Daichi’s voice was alarmed, the default wariness setting in as his eyes flicked from side to side. “Suga, what’s the matter?”

“Something hit me. There’s something there!”

“Huh?” Staring up to the sky, then back to Suga, Daichi started to smile, then pulled his face straight. He reached across and pulled something out of his hair.

“It’s a stone, Suga,” he whispered, and opened up his palm. “From the cliff face. That’s all.”

Suga stared at the chip of stone in Daichi’s hand. So small a thing. He tried to smile, tried to laugh, but the sound choked in his throat. “We should get back to camp.”

“So you can hide away again?” Daichi muttered, and shook his head. “Not this time.”

And then he grasped Suga’s wrist, pulling him towards the roughened path that led to the cliff top.

“No,” Suga protested and tried to wrench away, but Daichi tightened his grip, his face grim as he hauled him across the sand.

“Do not try to tell me – ever again – that this is just about Hinata,” he seethed.

“You’re saying I don’t miss them!” he protested, and dug his heel into the sand, hoping to slow Daichi’s trek by sinking to his knees.

To no avail. Daichi yanked him to his feet, drew him close and stared straight into his eyes so fiercely that Suga didn’t dare look away.

“Of course you miss them. We all miss them, but this isn’t about them. And so help me, Suga, if you dare tell me you’re fine, then I’ll ... I’ll ...I’ll ...” He couldn’t continue, instead he released his hold, and thrust Suga away.  “I feel as if somewhere along the line, we’ve lost something. And I want _you_ back, not this shadow.”

And the burden that since the battle had chained him, slowly started to unlink. It was still there, as was the darkness hovering in his mind, but as he gazed at Daichi, at the man standing in front of him, his every gesture imploring, he saw a chink of light.

He held out his hand. “Come on, we’ve got a cliff to climb.”

“You’re sure about this?”

“Yes. Lead the way.”

The path was narrow so they couldn’t walk side-by-side, yet Daichi held Suga’s hand the whole way, sometimes turning sideways so he could flash him a reassuring smile. And it was heartening to see Suga _not_ smiling, to watch him facing this with the same determination he had when they’d fled to the forest all those years before.

“Nearly there,” he murmured.

“Not far now.”

“Almost at the top.”

“I’m okay,” Suga replied, his breath no longer coming out in pants.

At the top, looking at the expanse of land, grass growing back in long lush tufts, it was hard to imagine the bloodshed this place had seen. As the breeze picked up around them, Daichi held Suga in his arms, touching his lips to his brow.

“See, she’s not here. Sparrow’s dead.”

“I know that,” Suga whispered. “It’s not her that haunts me.”

“Then what? Because, Suga, we’re alive. We’re both alive, and so are our kids, and our friends. We survived.”

“It’s me.” Suga screwed his eyes shut then buried his face in Daichi’s neck. “I wanted to die... and that terrifies me.”

Inhaling sharply, Daichi held him closer, one hand clasped on Suga’s back, while the other stroked his hair in, comforting him in much the same way as he had with Hinata or Yachi when they’d been young and so very scared.

“You were prepared to die,” he replied at last. “There’s a difference.”

He heard Suga swallow. “When Sparrow had you at knifepoint, I _wanted_ to die. There was a plan in place, and I knew I had to get through it. I knew I had to impart the plan to you, to give Kiyoko her chance. But I wanted to die. I was watching you with blood streaming down your face, that blindfold and the vial of poison. I struggled so hard to keep it together.”

“But you did.”

“In my dreams I fall with you.”

“It’s just a dream. Saeko and Akiteru-“

“In my dream I’m happy we’re falling,” he continued tonelessly. “I’m happy we’re dying.”

“Suga... don’t-“

“I’m happy because I know I can’t continue without you.”

“Stop this.”

Suga shivered and pulled away. He stepped towards the cliff, tentatively peering over the edge. “It’s an even further drop in my dreams, but we’d still have died, Daichi, wouldn’t we?”

“We didn’t. You must stop this.”

“I can’t, that’s the trouble,” he said, his voice a mere whisper. “I know I should be happy and I am so incredibly glad you’re here and we’re alive and together and everyone’s safe. But ... Daichi ... you were _prepared_ to die to save me, to save everyone. And I couldn’t let you do that.”

“Because you had a plan,” Daichi said. He stepped closer, alert in case he needed to grab his arm, if Suga decided ...

“No. It was because I cannot continue without you. I know this to my bones. You were roaring at me, so insistent that I had to live, that I had to carry on for the sake of the camp, but that would have been impossible.”

“No, you’re strong. You would have survived. You would have coped. The camp needs you.  You underestimate your strength, Suga, you always have.”

He shook his head. “You underestimate how much you mean to me, Daichi. Any strength I have is only because I have you. The camp needs _you_ , not me, and I take too much from its leader.”

“You think this is a one way thing?” Daichi snapped. “You honestly believe that I could survive without you. I’d exist, but ...” He clenched his fists, not wanting to rail or startle Suga, but trying to impress on him the very necessity of his being.

“I wouldn’t _live_ , Suga, not in the important ways. It’s only because of you that I’m here at all.” He raised his hand. “Let me finish. Before we met, I was a street kid, yeah. We lived rough, rougher than in the forest. I don’t mean the discomfort, I mean the ... _brutality_. And then, I saw you, a pampered princeling, I suppose. And I should have hated you. I _wanted_ to hate you because you had everything. But I couldn’t. It was impossible. It would be like hating the sun for warming the earth, or hating the rain for making the crops grow, hating birdsong or flowers or ...” Tilting back his head, he gazed at the sky. “You had such kindness shining from you, even then, and I wanted to be a part of that.”

Suga’s hand touched his cheek and Daichi smiled at him. “You taught me how to love, Suga. You taught me how to feel something other than hate and fury. And do you think our kids would have survived if you’d not taught me that?”

“I still wanted to die,” Suga said. “I would have left them in a heartbeat if you’d fallen.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” Daichi insisted. “You strained every muscle to pull me from the edge. You refused to let me die and you wouldn’t have let anyone harm our kids.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, yes, I do,” Daichi murmured. He cupped Suga’s face, his thumb smoothing away a smudge of dirt, and wished he could rub out the worry and fear in Suga’s eyes. “The same way I know Tanaka and Noya are probably arguing over who caught the biggest fish, or that Asahi’s listening to them with the mildest reproof in his head but still not uttering it. It’s who you are, Suga. It’s the very essence of you, this compassion is in your soul. And that won’t die.”

Suga sighed, a shuddering, body wrenching sigh and felt his knees give way. It was as if every part of him had suddenly weakened, but oddly enough, he felt strong even as he collapsed into Daichi’s arms. Because it was as if he were starting anew. A baby clutching at life.

“Hey, you do believe me, don’t you?” Daichi asked, worry etched into his words.

“Yes, I do now,” Suga said, and breathed again.

_I am stronger than I think. And I would have survived. I would have taken care of my kids. Our kids._  

“Where do you think they are now, Daichi?” he asked, still not opening his eyes. “Our two lost crows.”

“Hinata wanted to see mountains,” Daichi replied, and even though Suga couldn’t see him, he could hear the smile in his voice, as the worry left him.“He’s probably trying to run up one now, not thinking of the consequences.” He chuckled a little, and whispered in Suga’s ear.  “Don’t worry, Kageyama will scowl and pull him back. Our crows are flying high, but one day they’ll fly home.”


End file.
